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THE ANSWERING VOICE 

ONE HUNDRED LOVE LYRICS BY WOMEN 



THE ANSWERING VOICE 

ONE HUNDRED LOVE LYRICS 
BY WOMEN 

SELECTED BY 

SARA TEASDALE 
•I 

AUTHOR OF "rivers TO THE SEA," "HELEN OF 
TROY, AND OTHER POEMS," ETC. 




BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

(iUhe Bitoerisibe prejijei Cambnbge 

1917 






COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY SARA TEASDALK FILSINGER 



ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



I^ublished September iqrj 




f.^r 



SEP 18 1917 



k!,A476119 



THE HAPPY LABOR 

OF SELECTING THESE POEMS 

I DEDICATE TO 

MY SISTER 



'Epos SavTe fx' 6 \v(nfjLi\r)<; Suvei 
yXvKVTTLKpov dfjid)(av ov opinTov. 

gods^ what love^ what yearnings contributed to 
this:' 



PREFATORY NOTE 

I HAVE tried to bring together in this book the 
most beautiful love-lyrics written in English by 
women since the middle of the last century. During 
this period, for the first time in the history of Eng- 
lish literature, the work of women has compared 
favorably with that of men ; and in no other field 
have they done such noteworthy work as in poetry. 
Before this period, for reasons well known to the 
student of feminism, sincere love poems by women 
were very rare in England and America. With the 
exception of Lady Barnard's " Auld Robin Gray " 
and a poem by Susanna Blamire, I have found 
nothing that seemed worthy of inclusion. 

In most cases the finest utterance of women poets 
has been on love, so that this book is, I venture to 
hope, a golden treasury of lyrics by women. 

I have included no long poems, and no transla- 
tions, and I have avoided poems in which the poet 
dramatized a man's feelings rather than her own. 

I want to acknowledge very gratefully my in- 

ix 



Prefatory Note 

debtedness for counsel and suggestions to Harriet 
Monroe, Jessie B. Rittenhouse, Louis Untermeyer, 
Henry L. Mencken, William Stanley Braithwaite, 
Thomas S. Jones, Jr., John Hall Wheelock, and 
Thomas B. Mosher. From my husband, Ernst B. 
Filsinger, I have received unfailing aid and encour- 
agement. 

Sara Teasdale 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Thanks are due the following publishers and 
authors for permission to include selections from 
the volumes enumerated below : — 

To Mr. Richard G. Badger (Boston) for poems 
from " April Twilights," by Willa Sibert Gather, 
and "The Dancers," by Edith M. Thomas. 

To Messrs. Benziger Brothers (New York) for 
a poem from " Irish Poems," by Katharine Tynan. 

To Messrs. William Blackwood & Sons (Edin- 
burgh) for a poem from " Songs of the Glens of 
Antrim," by Moira O'Neill. 

To Mr. Edmund D. Brooks (Minneapolis) for 
a poem from "A Lark Went Singing," by Ruth 
Guthrie Harding. 

To Messrs. Bums & Gates (London) for a poem 
from " Poems," by Alice Meynell. 

To Messrs. Chatto & Windus (London) for 
poems from " Songs to Save a Soul," by Irene 
Rutherford McLeod. 

To Messrs. W. B. Conkey Company (Chicago) 



Acknowledgments 

for a poem from " Poems of Passion," by Ella 
Wheeler Wilcox. 

To Cowitri/ Life (London) for a poem from 
"The Country Life Anthology," by Margaret 
Sackville. 

To Messrs. George H. Doran Company (New 
York) for poems from " In Deep Places," by Ame- 
lia Josephine Burr. 

To Messrs. Doubleday, Page & Co. (New York) 
for a poem from " The Far Country," by Florence 
Wilkinson. 

To Messrs. Duffield & Co. (New York) for poems 
from " The Book of Love," by Elsa Barker, and 
" Gypsy Verses," by Helen Hay Whitney. 

To Messrs. Funk & Wagnalls Company (New 
York) for a poem from "The Four Winds of 
Eirinn," by Ethna Carbery. 

To Messrs. Gay & Hancock, Limited (London), 
for a poem from " Poems of Passion," by Ella 
Wheeler Wilcox. 

To Mr. S. B. Grundy (Toronto) for a poem 
from "The Lamp of Poor Souls," by Marjorie 
L. C. Pickthall. 

To Messrs. Harper & Brothers (New York) for 

xii 



Acknowledgments 

a poem from " Flower o' the Grass," by Ada Foster 
Murray. 

To Mr. William Heinemann (London) for 
poems from "The Golden Threshold," by Sarojini 
Naidu, and "India's Love Lyrics," by Laurence 
Hope. 

To Messrs. Houghton Mifflin Company (Bos- 
ton and New York) for poems from " The Sister 
of the Wind " and " Little Gray Songs from St. 
Joseph's," by Grace Fallow Norton; "The Sing- 
ing Leaves," by Josephine Preston Peabody ; " Col- 
lected Poems," by Florence Earle Coates; " Happy 
Ending," by Louise Imogen Guiney; "A Handful 
of Lavender," and "A Quiet Road," by Lizette 
Woodworth Reese ; " Afternoons of April," by 
Grace Hazard Conkling ; " The Shoes that Danced," 
by Anna Hempstead Branch, and " A Marriage 
Cycle," by Alice Freeman Palmer, 

To Mr. B. W. Huebsch (New York) for poems 
from " Songs to Save a Soul," by Irene Rutherford 
McLeod. 

To Mr. Mitchell Kennerley (New York) for 
poems from "The Joy o' Life," by Theodosia 
Garrison, and " Interpretations," by Zoe Akins. 



Acknowledgments 

To Messrs. John Lane Company (New York) 
for poems from " The Lamp of Poor Souls," by 
MarjorieL. C. Pickthall; "The Golden Thresh- 
old," by Saro" i Naidu; "India's Love Lyrics," 
by Laurence 1 e, and " Poems," by Rosamund 
Marriott Wat 

To Mr. Jc... Lane, The Bodley Head (Lon- 
don) for poems from " The Lamp of Poor Souls," 
by Marjorie L. Pickthall, and " Poems," by Rosa- 
mund Marriott Watson. 

To Messrs. Little, Brown & Co. (Boston) for 
poems from " Poems " (Second and Third Series), 
by Emily Dickinson. 

To The Macmillan Company (New York) for 
poems from " Poems," by Christina Rossetti ; 
" Sword Blades and Poppy Seed," by Amy Lowell ; 
" Myself and I," and "Crack o' Dawn," by Fannie 
Stearns Davis ; " You and I," by Harriet Monroe, 
and " Songs of the Glens of Antrim," by Moira 
O'Neill. 

To Messrs. Macmillan & Co., Limited (Lon- 
don), for poems from " Poems," by Christina Ros- 
setti, and "Artemis to Actseon and Other Verse," 
by Edith Wharton. 



Acknowledgments 

To Mr. Thomas B. Mosher (Portland, Maine) 
for poems from " An Italian Garden," by A. Mary 
F. Robinson ; " The Flower from the Ashes and 
Other Verse," by Edith M. Thomas, and "A 
Wayside Lute," by Lizette Woodworth Reese. 

To Grant Richards, Limited (London), for 
poems from " The Man with a Hammer," by Anna 
Wickham, and " Interpretations," by Zoe Akins. 

To Alston Rivers, Limited (London), for a 
poem from " Selected Poems," by Nora Chesson. 

To Messrs. Charles Scribner^s Sons (New York) 
for poems from " Artemis to Actseon and Other 
Verse," by Edith Wharton ; " Poems," by Alice 
Meynell ; " Songs about Life, Love and Death," 
by Anne Reeve Aldrich ; " Beyond the Sunset," by 
Julia C. R. Dorr; "The Cycle's Rim," by Olive 
Tilford Dargan, and "The Call of Brotherhood," 
by Corinne Roosevelt Robinson. 

To The Strange Company (San Francisco) for 
poems from " Poems," by Nora May French. 

To T. Fisher Unwin, Limited (London), for 
poems from "An Italian Garden," by A. Mary 
F. Robinson, and " A London Plane Tree," by 
Amy Levy. 

XV 



Acknowledgments 

To The John C. Winston Company (Philadel- 
phia) for poems from "Factories with Other Lyr- 
ics," by Margaret Widdemer. 

And to the editors of Poetry for permission to 
reprint poems by Helen Dudley, Alice Corbin, and 
Jean Starr Untermeyer ; to The Independent for a 
poem by Helen Hoyt ; to The Timmed Lamp for 
a poem by Marguerite Wilkinson; to McClure's 
Magazine for a poem by Jessie B. Rittenhouse ; to 
The Smart Set for a poem by Muna Lee ; to The 
Century for poems by Mary Carolyn Davies and 
Eunice Tietjens ; to The Forum for a poem by Edna 
St. Vincent Millay ; to Much Ado for poems by 
Zoe Akins ; and to The Manas Press (Rochester, 
New York) for a poem by Adelaide Crapsey. 



CONTENTS 

Apology. Amy Lowell 27 

April Ghost, An. Lizelte Woodworth Reese . . 102 
Ashes of Life. Edna St. Vincent Millay ... 70 
AuLD Robin Gray. Anne Barnard .... 104 

"Beloved, my beloved, when I think." Elizabeth 

Barrett Browning 26 

Birch Tree at Loschwitz, The. Amy Levy . . 2 

Birthday, A. Christina Rossetti 17 

Carnations. Margaret Widdemer 97 

Choice. Emily Dickinson 19 

*' Come BACK TO MB." Christina Rossetti ... 69 

Comrades. Fannie Stearns Davis 49 

CoNNAUGHT Lament, A. Nora Chesson ... 10 

"Cuttin' Rushes." Moira O'Neill 94 

Cynic, The. Theodosia Garrison 72 

Debts. Jessie B. Rittenhouse 46 

Deep-Sea Pearl, The. Edith M. Thomas . . 103 

Dirge. Adelaide Crapsey 100 

"Douglas, Douglas, tender and true." Dinah 

Mulock Craik 114 

Ecstasy. Sarojini Naidu 35 

Enchanted Sheep-fold, The. Josephine Preston 
Peabody 15 

xvii 



Contents 

Farewell, A. Harriet Monroe 66 

Finis. Rosamund Marriott Watson .... 107 

Found. Josephine Preston Peabody .... 18 

Friendship after Love. Ella Wheeler Wilcox . 84 

From a Car-Window. Ruth Guthrie Harding . . 91 

Gifts. Juliana Horatia Ewing 57 

" Go from me." Elizabeth Barrett Browning . . 64 

" GrANDMITHER, think not I FORGET." WUla 

Sibert Gather 108 

Great Man, The. Eunice Tietjens .... 37 

Hawthorn Tree, The. Willa Sibert Gather . . 34 
Heart's Country, The. Florence Wilkinson . . 23 
"How DO I love thee?" Elizabeth Barrett Brown- 
ing 43 

I AM the Wind. Zoe Akins 80 

"I HAVE WANDERED TO A SPRING." Edna Wahlcrt 

McGourt 5 

I KNOW. Elsa Barker 39 

" I LEANED OUT MY WINDOW." Jean Ingelow . . 31 

" I MUST NOT YIELD." Nora May French . . . C3 

" I SAT AMONG THE GREEN LEAVES." Marjoric L. G. 

Pickthall 13 

" I WILL NOT GIVE THEE ALL MY HEART." Grace Hazard 

Gonkling 56 

"If THOU MUST LOVE ME, LET IT BE FOR NOUGHT." 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 41 

In Deep Places. Amelia Josephine Burr . . .51 

xviii 



Contents 

In the Park. Helen Hoyi ~ 14 

Incantation, An. Marguerite Wilkinson ... 21 

Insufficiency. Elizabeth Barrett Browning . . 62 

Late Comer, To a. Julia C. R. Dorr .... 96 
" Less THAN THE DUST." Laurence Hope . . . 119 
"Love came back at fall o' dew." Lizeite Wood- 
worth Reese 90 

Love is a Terrible Thing. Grace Fallow Norton . 8 

Love me at Last. Alice Corbin 6 

Love Song. Mary Carolyn Davies .... 22 

Love Song. Harriet Monroe 59 

Love's Change. Anne Reeve Aldrich .... 67 

Lynmouth Widow, A. Amelia Josephine Burr . 118 

Man, The. Helen Hay Whitney 121 

Man with a Hammer, The. Anna Wickham . . 36 
"Many in aftertimes will say." Christina Ros- 

setli 78 

Menace. Katharine Tynan 58 

Message, The. Margaret Sackville .... 85 

Name, The. Williamina Parrish 30 

Norah. Zo'e Akins 120 

"Oh, the burden, the burden of love ungiven." 

Grace Fallow Norton 12 

Old Song, An. Fannie Stearns Davis .... 54 

Other, The. Ethna Carbery 86 

xix 



Contents 

Parting. Emily Dickinson 53 

Parting. Alice Freeman Palmer 83 

Passer-by, The. Edith M. Thomas . . . .111 

Possession. Jean Starr Untermcyer .... 60 

Rain. Jean Starr Untermeyer 29 

Rain, RainI Zo'e Akins 33 

Rainbow, The. Vine Colby 88 

Red May. A. Mary F. Robinson 7 

Reminiscence, A. Amy Levy 99 

Renouncement. Alice Meynell 65 

Requiescat. Rosamund Marriott Watson . . .113 

Rest. Irene Rutherford McLeod 40 

Rhapsody. Florence Earle Coates 24 

RisPETTO, I, II, III. A. Mary F. Robinson 75, 76, 77 

Sea Song. Laurence Hope 73 

Service. Anna Hempstead Branch .... 81 

Siller Crown, The. Susanna Blamire ... 92 
"So beautiful you are, indeed." Irene Rutherford 

McLeod 20 

Somewhere or Other. Christina Rossctti . . 1 

Taxi, The. Amy Lowell 44 

That Day you came. Lizette Woodworth Reese . 52 

Tired Woman, The. Anna Wickham .... 42 

To a Late Comer. Julia C. R. Dorr .... 96 

To ONE Unknown. Helen Dudley .... 3 
"To-day I went among the mountain folk." 

Olive Tilford Dargan 101 

XX 



Contents 

"Under dusky laurel leaf." Margaret Widdemer 122 
Unfulfilled. Corinne Roosevelt Robinson . .117 
Unwedded. Ada Foster Murray 116 

Vos NON VoBis. Edith M. Thomas . . . .11 

"When I am dead." Christina Rosselti . . .112 
"When on the marge of evening." Louise Imo- 
gen Guiney 25 

When plaintively and near the cricket sings. 

Nora May French 68 

"When we shall be dust." Muna Lee ... 79 

Woman's Question, A. Adelaide Anne Procter . 47 

"Yet for one rounded moment." Edith Wharton 61 
"You SAY there is no love." Grace Fallow Norton 45 



THE ANSWERING VOICE 

SOMEWHERE OR OTHER 

Somewhere or other there must surely be 
The face not seen, the voice not heard, 

The heart that not yet — never yet — ah, me ! 
Made answer to my word. 

Somewhere or other, maybe near or far; 

Past land and sea, clean out of sight ; 
Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star 

That tracks her night by night. 

Somewhere or other, maybe far or near ; 

With just a wall, a hedge, between ; 
With just the last leaves of the dying year 

Fallen on a turf grown green. 

Christina Rossetti 



THE BIRCH TREE AT LOSCHWITZ 

At Loschwitz above the city 
The air is sunny and chill; 

The birch trees and the pine trees 
Grow thick upon the hill. 

Lone and tall, with silver stem, 

A birch tree stands apart ; 
The passionate wind of spring-time 

Stirs in its leafy heart. 

I lean against the birch tree, 
My arms around it twine; 

It pulses, and leaps, and quivers, 
Like a human heart to mine. 

One moment I stand, then sudden 
Let loose mine arms that cling : 

O God ! the lonely hillside. 
The passionate wind of spring ! 

Amy Levy 

2 



TO ONE UNKNOWN 

I HAVE seen the proudest stars 
That wander on through space, 
Even the sun and moon, 
But not your face. 

I have heard the violin, 
The winds and waves rejoice 
In endless minstrelsy ; 
Yet not your voice. 

I have touched the trillium. 
Pale flower of the land, 
Coral, anemone, 
And not your hand. 

I have kissed the shining feet 
Of Twilight lover-wise, 
Opened the gates of Dawn — 
Oh, not your eyes ! 

3 



The Answering Voice 

I have dreamed unwonted things, 
Visions that witches brew, 
Spoken with images. 
Never with you. 

Helen Dudley 



"I HAVE WANDERED TO A SPRING" 

I HAVE wandered to a spring In the forest green 

and dim, 
The sweet quiet stirs about me — 
The water twinkles at me, 
As I stoop to dip my cup, 

As I stoop to drink — to him. 

True, I 'm only half in earnest — I touch the cool, 

wet brim — 
He 'd laugh if he could see me — 
I 'm glad he does n't see me. 
As alone with my queer gladness, 
I stoop to drink — to him. 

Edna Wahlert McCourt 



7^ 



LOVE ME AT LAST 

Love me at last, or if you will not, 

Leave me ; 
Hard words could never, as these half-words, 

Grieve me : 
Love me at last — or leave me. 

Love me at last, or let the last word uttered 

Be but your own ; 
Love me, or leave me — as a cloud, a vapor, 

Or a bird flown. 
Love me at last — I am but sliding water 

Over a stone. 

Alice Corbin 



RED MAY 

Out of the window the trees in the Square 
Are covered with crimson May — 

You, that were all of my love and my care, 
Have broken my heart to-day. 

But though I have lost you and though I despair 

Till even the past looks gray — 
Out of the window the trees in the Square 

Are covered with crimson May. 

A. Maty F. Robinson 



LOVE IS A TERRIBLE THING 

I WENT out to the farthest meadow, 
I lay down in the deepest shadow ; 

And I said unto the earth, " Hold me," 
And unto the night, " O enfold me," 

And unto the wind petulantly 

I cried, " You know not for you are free ! " 

And I begged the little leaves to lean 
Low and together for a safe screen ; 

Then to the stars I told my tale : 
" That is my home-light, there in the vale, 

" And O, I know that I shall return, 
But let me lie first mid the unfeeling fern. 

" For there is a flame that has blown too near. 
And there is a name that has grown too dear. 
And there is a fear . . ." 



Love is a Terrible Thing 

And to the still hills and cool earth and far sky 
I made moan, 
" The heart in my bosom is not my own ! 

'' O would I were free as the wind on wing; 
Love is a terrible thing ! " 

Grace Fallow Norton 



A CONNAUGHT LAMENT 

I WILL arise and go hence to the west, 

And dig me a grave where the hill-winds call ; 

But oh, were I dead, were I dust, the fall 

Of my own love's footstep would break my rest ! 

My heart in my bosom is black as a sloe ! 
I heed not cuckoo, nor wren, nor swallow : 
Like a flying leaf in the sky's blue hollow 
The heart in my breast is, that beats so low. 

Because of the words your lips have spoken, 
(O dear black head that I must not follow) 
My heart is a grave that is stripped and hollow, 
As ice on the water my heart is broken. 

lips forgetful and kindness fickle, 

The swallow goes south with you : I go west 
Where fields are empty and scythes at rest. 

1 am the poppy and you the sickle ; 
My heart is bi'oken within my breast. 

Nora Chesson 

10 



VOS NON VOBIS 

There was a garden -planned in Spring's young 

days. 
Then Summer held it in her bounteous hand, 
And many wandered through its blooming ways. 
But ne'er the one for whom the work was planned. 

And it was vainly done — 
For what are many, if we lack the one ? 

There was a song that lived within the heart 
Long time — and then on Music's wing it strayed ! 
All sing it now, all praise its artless art. 
But ne'er the one for whom the song was made. 

And it was vainly done — 
For what are many, if we lack the one ! 

Edith M. Thomas 



11 



"OH, THE BURDEN, THE BURDEN OF 
LOVE UNGIVEN" 

Oh, the burden, the burden of love ungiven, 

The weight of laughter unshed. 
Oh, heavy caresses, unblown tendernesses. 

Oh, love- words unsung and unsaid. 

Oh, the burden, the burden of love unspoken, 

The cramp of silence close-furled. 
To lips that would utter, to hands that would 
scatter 

Love's seed on the paths of the world. 

Oh, the heavy burden of love ungiven : 

My breast doth this burden bear; 
Deep in my bosom the unblown blossom — 

My world-love that withers there. 

Grace Fallow Norton 



12 



"I SAT AMONG THE GREEN LEAVES" 

I SAT among the green leaves, and heard the nuts 
falling, 
The blood-red butterflies were gold against the 
sun, 
But in between the silence and the sweet birds calling 
The nuts fell one by one. 

Why should they fall and the year but half over ? 

Why should sorrow seek me and I so young 
and kind ? 
The leaf is on the bough and the dew is on the clover, 

But the green nuts are falling in the wind. 

Oh, I gave my lips away and all my soul behind 
them. 
Why should trouble follow and the quick tears 
start? 
The little birds may love and fly with only God 
to mind them, 
But the green nuts are falling on my heart. 

Marjone L. C. Pkkthall 
13 



IN THE PARK 

He whistled soft whistlings I knew were for me, 

Teasing, endearing. 

Won't you look ? was what they said, 

But I did not turn my head. 

(Only a little I turned my hearing.) 

My feet took me by ; 

Straight and evenly they went : 

As if they had not dreamed what he meant : 

As if such a curiosity 

Never were known since the world began 

As woman wanting man ! 

My heart led me past and took me away ; 
And yet it was my heart that wanted to stay. 

Helen Hoyt 



14 



THE ENCHANTED SHEEP-FOLD 

The hills far-off were blue, blue, 

The hills at hand were brown ; 
And all the herd-bells called to me 

As I came by the down. 

The briars turned to roses — roses, 

Ev^er we stayed to pull 
A white little rose, and a red little rose, 

And a lock of silver wool. 

Nobody heeded, — none, none ; 

And when True Love came by. 
They thought him nought but the shepherd-boy. 

Nobody knew but I ! 

The trees were feathered like birds, birds ; 

Birds were in every tree. 
Yet nobody heeded, nobody heard. 

Nobody knew, save we. 

15 



The Answering Voice 

And he is fairer than all, — all. 

How could a heart go wrong ? 
For his eyes I knew, and his knew mine, 

Like an old, old song. 

Josephine Preston Peabodt^ 



A BIRTHDAY 

My heart is like a singing bird 

Whose nest is in a watered shoot : 
My heart is like an apple tree 

Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit ; 
My heart is like a rainbow shell 

That paddles in a halcyon sea ; 
My heart is gladder than all these 

Because my love is come to me. 

Raise me a dais of silk and down ; 

Hang it with vair and purple dyes ; 
Carve it in doves and pomegranates, 

And peacocks with a hundred eyes ; 
Work it in gold and silver grapes. 

In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys ; 
Because the birthday of my life 

Is come, my love is come to me. 

Christina Rossetti 



17 



FOUND 

Oh, when I saw your eyes, 
So old it was, so new, the hushed surprise : 
After a long, long search, it came to be. 
Home folded me. 

And looking up, I saw 
The far, first stars like tapers to my awe. 
In the dim hands of hid, benignant Powers, 
At search long hours. 

And did they hear us call, 
That they have found us children after all ? 
And did you know, O Wonderful and Dear, 
That I was here ? 

Josephine Preston Peab^dy 



18 



CHOICE 

Of all the souls that stand create 
I have elected one. 
"When sense from spirit flies away, 
And subterfuge is done ; 

When that which is and that which was 

Apart, intrinsic, stand, 

And this brief tragedy of flesh 

Is shifted like a sand ; 

When figures show their royal front 
And mists are carved away, — 
Behold the atom I preferred 
To all the lists of clay ! 

Emily Dickinson 



19 



so BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE INDEED 

So beautiful you are, indeed, 
That I am troubled when you come. 
And though I crave you for my need, 
Your nearness strikes me blind and dumb. 

And when you bring your lips to mine 
My spirit trembles and escapes. 
And you and I are turned divine. 
Bereft of our familiar shapes. 

And fearfully we tread cold space. 
Naked of flesh and winged with flame, 
. . . Until we find us face to face. 
Each calling on the other's name ! 

Irene Rutherford McLeod 



20 



AN INCANTATION 

O STRONG sun of heaven, harm not my love, 
Sear him not with your flame, blind him not with 

your beauty, 
Shine for his pleasure ! 

O gray rains of heaven, harm not my love. 
Drown not in your torrent the song of his heart, 
Lave and caress him ! 

O swift winds of heaven, harm not my love, 
Bruise not nor buffet him with your rough humor. 
Sing you his prowess ! 

O mighty triad, strong ones of heaven. 
Sun, rain and wind, be gentle, I charge you ; 
For your mad mood of wrath have me, I am ready — 
But spare him, my lover, most proud and most 

dear — 
O sun, rain and wind, strong ones of heaven ! 

Marguerite Wilkinson 

21 



LOVE SONG 

There is a strong wall about me to protect me : 
It is built of the words you have said to me. 

There are swords about me to keep me safe : 
They are the kisses of your lips. 

Before me goes a shield to guard me from harm : 
It is the shadow of your arms between me and 
danger. 

All the wishes of my mind know your name, 

And the white desires of my heart 

They are acquainted with you. 

The cry of my body for completeness, 

That is a cry to you. 

My blood beats out your name to me, unceasing, 

pitiless — 
Your name, your name. 

Mary Carolyn Davies 



22 



THE HEART'S COUNTRY 

Hill people turn to their hills ; 

Sea folk are sick for the sea : 
Thou art my land and my country, 

And my heart calls out for thee. 

The bird beats his wings for the open, 
The captive burns to be free ; 

But I — I cry at thy window, 
For thou art my liberty. 

Florence Wilkinson 



23 



RHAPSODY 

As the mother bird to the waiting nest, 
As the regnant moon to the sea, 

As joy to the heart that hath first been blest — 
So is my love to me. 

Sweet as the song of the lark that soars 
From the net of the fowler free, 

Sweet as the morning that song adores — 
So is my love to me ! 

As the rose that blossoms in matchless grace 

Where the canker may not be. 
As the well that springs in a desert place — 

So is my love to me. 

Florence Earle Coates 



24 



"WHEN ON THE MARGE OF 
EVENING " 

When on the marge of evening the last blue light 
is broken, 
And winds of dreamy odor are loosened from 
afar, 
Or when my lattice opens, before the lark hath 
spoken, 
On dim laburnum-blossoms, and morning's dy- 
ing star, 

I think of thee (oh mine the more if other eyes 
be sleeping !) 
Whose greater noonday splendors the many 
share and see, 
While sacred and forever, some perfect law is keep- 
ing 
The late, the early twilight, alone and sweet for 
me. 

Louise Imogen Gttiney 



25 



"BELOVED, MY BELOVED, WHEN I 
THINK" 

Beloved, my beloved, when I think 
That thou wast in the world a year ago. 
What time I sat alone here in the snow. 
And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink 
No moment at thy voice, but link by link. 
Went counting all my chains as if that so 
They never could fall off at any blow 
Struck by thy possible hand, — why, thus I drink 
Of life's great cup of wonder ! Wonderful, 
Never to feel thee thrill the day or night 
With personal act or speech, nor ever cull 
Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white 
Thou sawxst growing ! Atheists are as dull. 
Who cannot guess God's presence out of sight. 
Elizabeth Barrett Browning- 



26 



APOLOGY 

Be not angry with me that I bear 
Your colors everywhere, 
All through each crowded street, 

And meet 
The wonder-light in every eye, 

As I go by. 

Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze, 
Blinded by rainbow haze, 
The stuff of happiness, 

No less. 
Which wraps me in its glad-hued folds 

Of peacock golds. 

Before my feet the dusty, rough-paved way 
Flushes beneath its gray. 
My steps fall ringed with light. 

So bright. 
It seems a myriad suns are strown 

About the town. 

27 



The Answering Voice 

Around me is the sound of steepled bells, 
And rich perfumed smells 
Hang like a wind-forgotten cloud, 

And shroud 
Me from close contact with the world. 

I dwell impearled. 

You blazon me with jeweled insignia. 
A flaming nebula 
Rims in my life. And yet 

You set 
The word upon me, unconfessed 
To go unguessed. 

Amy Lowell 



RAIN 

I HAVE always hated the rain, 
And the gloom of grayed skies. 
But now I think I must always cherish 
Rain-hung leaf and the misty river ; 
And the friendly screen of dripping green 
Where eager kisses were shyly given 
And your pipe-smoke made clouds in our damp, 
close heaven. 

The curious laggard passed us by, 

His wet shoes soughed on the shining walk. 

And that afternoon was filled with a blurred 

glory — 
That afternoon, when we first talked as lovers. 
Jean Starr Untermeyer 



29 



THE NAME 

I 'vE learned to say it carelessly, 

So no one else can see 
By any little look or sign 

How dear it is to me. 

But, oh, the thrill, as though you kissed 

My tingling finger-tips 
Each time the golden syllables 

Fall lightly from my lips ! 

Williamina Parrish 



30 



"I LEANED OUT MY WINDOW" 

I LEANED out my window, I smelt the white 
clover, 
Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate ; 
Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one 
lover — 
Hush, nightingale, hush ! Oh, sweet nightin- 
gale, wait 
Till I listen and hear 
If a step draweth near, 
For my love he is late ! 

*' The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer, 
A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the 
tree. 
The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer : 
To what art thou listening, and what dost thou 
see ? 
Let the star-clusters grow, 
Let the sweet waters flow, 
And cross quickly to me. 

31 



The Answering Voice 

■ You night moths that hover where honey brims 
over 
From sycamore blooms, or settle or sleep; 
You glowworms, shine out, and the pathway dis- 
cover 
To him that comes darkling along the rough 
steep. 
Ah, my sailor, make haste, 
For the time runs to waste, 
And my love lieth deep — 

' Too deep for swift telling ; and yet, my one lover, 
I 've conned thee an answer, it waits thee to- 
night." 
By the s^'camore passed he, and through the white 
clover, 
Then all the sweet speech I had fashioned took 
flight; 
But I '11 love him more, more 
Than e'er wife loved before, 
Be the day dark or bright. 

Jean Ingeloxv 



RAIN, RAIN! 

Rain, rain, — fall, fall, 

In a heavy screen — 
That my lov^er be not seen ! 

Wind, wind, — blow, blow. 

Till the leaves are stirred — 
That my lover be not heard! 

Storm, storm, — rage, rage, 

Like a war around — 

That my lover be not found ! 

. . . Lark, lark, — hush . . . hush . . . 
Softer music make — 
That my lover may not wake. . . . 

Zde Akins 



33 



THE HAWTHORN TREE 

Across the shimmering meadows — 

Ah, when he came to me ! 

In the spring-time, 

In the night-time. 

In the starlight, 

Beneath the hawthorn tree. 

Up from the misty marshland — 
Ah, when he climbed to me ! 
To my white bower. 
To my sweet rest. 
To my warm breast. 
Beneath the hawthorn tree. 

Ask of me what the birds sang, 
High in the hawthorn tree; 
What the breeze tells. 
What the rose smells. 
What the stars shine — 
Not what he said to me ! 

Willa Stbert Gather 

34 



ECSTASY 

Cover mine eyes, O my Love ! 

Mine eyes that are weary of bliss 
As of light that is poignant and strong. 

Oh, silence my lips with a kiss, 
My lips that are weary of song ! 

Shelter my soul, O my Love ! 

My soul is bent low with the pain 
And the burden of love, like the grace 

Of a flower that is smitten with rain ; 
Oh, shelter my soul from thy face ! 

Sarojini Naidu 



35 



THE MAN WITH A HAMMER 

My Dear was a mason 

And I was his stone. 
And quick did he fashion 

A house of his own. 

As fish in the waters, 

As birds in a tree, 
So natural and blithe lives 

His spirit in me. 

Anna Wickham 



36 



/^ 



THE GREAT MAN 

I CANNOT always feel his greatness. 

Sometimes he walks beside me, step by step, 

And paces slowly in the ways — 

The simple, wingless ways 

That my thoughts tread. He gossips with me 

then. 
And finds it good; 
Not as an eagle might, his great wings folded, 

be content 
To walk a little, knowing it his choice, 
But as a simple man. 
My friend. 
And I forget. 

Then suddenly a call floats down 

From the clear airy spaces. 

The great keen, lonely heights of being. 

And he who was my comrade hears the call 

And rises from my side, and soars. 

Deep-chanting, to the heights. 

37 



^ 



The Answering Voice 

Then I remember. 

And my upward gaze goes with him, and I see 

Far off against the sky 

The glint of golden sunlight on his wings. 

Eunice Tietjens 



I KNOW 

Oh ! I know why the alder trees 
Lean over the reflecting stream; 

And I know what the wandering bees 
Heard in the woods of dream. 

I know how the uneasy tide 

Answers the signal of the moon, 

And why the morning-glories hide 
Their eyes in the forenoon. 

And I know all the wild delight 

That quivers in the sea-bird's wings, 

For in one little hour last night 
Love told me all these things. 

Elsa Barker 



39 



REST 

As a little child I come 
To be gathered to your breast 
So tired that my lips are dumb, 
So sad that my warm heart is numb : 
Beloved, let me rest. 

Oh, how all the noises die. 
All the cruel voices cease, 
I can sleep when you are by, 
And I am too faint to cry: 
Here at last is peace. 

Hold me, nurse me, love me . . . so . . . 
Almost I could learn to weep ! 
Hush, I feel my spirit grow . . . 
When you tire ... let me go . . . 
I shall be . . . asleep. 

Irene Rutherford McLeod 



40 



"IF THOU MUST LOVE ME, LET IT 
BE FOR NOUGHT" 

If thou must love me, let it be for nought 
Except for love's sake only. Do not say, 
" I love her for her smile, her look, her way 
Of speaking gently, for a trick of thought 
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought 
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day " ; 
For these things in themselves, beloved, may 
Be changed, or change for thee : and love so wrought 
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for 
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry: 
A creature might forget to weep, who bore 
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby. 
But love me for love's sake, that evermore 
Thou mayst love on through love's eternity. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning- 



41 



THE TIRED WOMAN 

MY Lover, blind me, 
Take your cords and bind me, 
Then drive me through a silent land. 
With the compelling of your open hand ! 

There is too much of sound, too much for sight. 
In thunderous lightnings of this night. 
There is too much of freedom for my feet. 
Bruised by the stones of this disordered street. 

1 know that there is sweetest rest for me. 
In silent fields, and in captivity. 

O Lover! drive me through a stilly land. 
With the compelling of your open hand. 

Anna Wickham 



42 



"HOW DO I LOVE THEE?" . 

How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways. 

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height 

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 

For the ends of being and ideal grace. 

I love thee to the level of every day's 

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. 

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. 

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. 

I love thee with the passion put to use 

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. 

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose 

With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath. 

Smiles, tears, of all my life ; and, if God choose, 

I shall but love thee better after death. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning' 



43 



THE TAXI 

When I go away from you 
The world beats dead 
Like a slackened drum. 
I call out for you against the jutted stars 
And shout into the ridges of the wind. 
Streets coming fast, 
One after the other, 
Wedge you away from me, 
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes 
So that I can no longer see your face. 
Why should I leave you, 

To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night ? 

Ami/ Lowell 



44 



"YOU SAY THERE IS NO LOVE" 

You say there is no love, my lo\'e, 

Unless it lasts for aye ! 
Oh, folly, there are interludes 
Better than the play. 

You say lest it endure, sweet love, 

It is not love for aye ? 
Oh, blind ! Eternity can be 

All in one little day. 

Grace Fallow Norton 



45 



DEBTS 

My debt to you, Beloved, 

Is one I cannot pay- 
In any coin of any realm 

On any reckoning day; 

For where is he shall figure 

The debt, when all is said, 
To one who makes you dream again 

When all the dreams were dead ? 

Or where is the appraiser 

Who shall the claim compute 

Of one who makes you sing again 
When all the songs were mute ? 

Jessie B. Rittenhouse 



46 



A WOMAN'S QUESTION • 

Before I trust my fate to thee, 

Or place my hand in thine, 
Before I let thy future give 

Color and form to mine, — 
Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul 
to-night, for me. 

I break all slighter bonds, nor feel 

One shadow of regret : 
Is there one link within the past 

That holds thy spirit yet ? 
Or is thy faith as clear and free as that which 
I can pledge to thee ? . . . 

Is there within thy heart a need 

That mine cannot fulfill ? 
One chord that any other hand 

Could better wake or still ? 
Speak now, lest at some future day, my whole 
life wither and decay. . . . 
47 



The Answering Voice 

Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day, 

And answer to my claim 
That fate, and that to-day's mistake, 

Not thou, had been to blame ? 
Some soothe their conscience thus ; but thou — oh, 
surely thou wilt warn me now! 

Adelaide Anne Procter 



COMRADES 

You need not say one word to me, as up the hill 

we go 
(Night-time, white-time, all in the whispering 

snow) ; 
You need not say one word to me, although the 

whispering trees 
Seem strange and old as pagan priests in swaying 

mysteries. 

You need not think one thought of me, as up the 

trail we go 
(Hill-trail, still-trail, all in the hiding snow) ; 
You need not think one thought of me, although a 

hare runs by. 
And off behind the tumbled cairn we hear a red fox 

cry. 

Oh, good and rare it is to feel, as through the 

night we go 
(Wild-wise, child-wise, all in the secret snow), 

49 



The Answering Voice 

That we are free of heart and foot as hare and fox 

are free, 
And yet that I am glad of you, and you are glad 

of me! 

Fannie Steams Davis 



IN DEEP PLACES 

I LOVE thee, dear, and knowing mine own heart 

With every beat I give God thanks for this; 

I love thee only for the self thou art ; 

No wild embrace, no wisdom-shaking kiss. 

No passionate pleading of a heart laid bare, 

No urgent cry of love's extremity — 

Strong traps to take the spirit unaware — 

Not one of these I ever had of thee. 

Neither of passion nor of pity wrought 

Is this, the love to which at last I yield, 

But shapen in the stillness of my thought 

And by a birth of agony revealed. 

Here is a thing to live while we do live 

Which honors thee to take and me to give. 

Amelia Josephine Burr 



51 



THAT DAY YOU CAME 

Such special sweetness was about 
That day God sent you here, 

I knew the lavender was out, 
And it was mid of year. 

Their common way the great winds blew, 

The ships sailed out to sea ; 
Yet ere that day was spent I knew 

Mine own had come to me. 

As after song some snatch of tune 
Lurks still in grass or bough, 

So, somewhat of the end o' June 
Lurks in each weather now. 

The young year sets the buds astir. 
The old year strips the trees; 

But ever in my lavender 
I hear the brawling bees. 

Lizette Woodworth Reese 

52 



A 



PARTING «- 

My life closed twice before its close; 

It yet remains to see 
If Immortality unveil 

A third event to me. 

So huge, so hopeless to conceive, 

As these that twice befell ; 
Parting is all we know of heaven. 

And all we need of hell. 

Emily Dickinson 



53 



AN OLD SONG 

And if I came not again 
After certain days ; 
If no morning sun or rain 
Met me on their wa}^s ; 

If the meadows knew no more 
How my feet go free, 
And the folded hills forbore 
Any speech of me ; 

If you did not find me here, 
At the door at night, 
And the cold hearth kept no cheer, 
And the panes no light ; — 

Oh, if I came not again, 
Would you miss me much ? 
Would your fingers once be fain 
Of my wandering touch ? 

54 



An Old Song 

Would you dream me at your side 
In the waking wood, 
Where the old spring hungers hide 
In blue solitude ? 

Would you wonder where I passed, 
Into joy or pain ? 
Oh, to know you cared, at last, 
Came I not again ! 

Fannie Stearns Davis 



I WILL NOT GIVE THEE ALL MY 
HEART " 

I WILL not give thee all my heart 

For that I need a place apart 

To dream my dreams in, and I know 

Few sheltered ways for dreams to go : 

But when I shut the door upon 

Some secret wonder — still, withdrawn — 

Why dost thou love me even more, 

And hold me closer than before ? 

When I of Love demand the least, 
Thou biddest him to fire and feast : 
When I am hungry and would eat, 
There is no bread, though crusts were sweet. 
If I with manna may be fed. 
Shall I go all uncomforted ? 
Nay ! Howsoever dear thou art, 
I will not give thee all my heart. 

Grace Hazard Conkling 



GIFTS 

You ask me what — since we must part — 

You shall bring back to me. 
Bring back a pure and faithful heart 

As true as mine to thee. 

You talk of gems from foreign lands, 

Of treasure, spoil, and prize. 
Ah love! I shall not search your hands 

But look into your eyes. 

Juliana Horatia Ewing' 



57 



MENACE 

I CAME into your room and spoke. 

Sudden I knew you were not there. 
The easy, common sentence broke 

Against the unanswering air. 

My heart shook like a frightened bird, 
And to my ear the terror said, 

Where nothing spoke and nothing stirred, - 
Dear God^ \f ht -were dead! 

I heard your footstep in the house. 

Your voice brought comfort to my fear. 

But, fluttering like a frightened mouse, 
My heart beat at my ear. 

The room wore its familiar face ; 

On the warm hearth spirted the flame. 
Yet — menace of an empty place — 

Lord^ if he never came! 

Katharine Tynan 

58 



LOVE SONG 

I LOVE my life, but not too well 
To give it to thee like a flower, 

So it may pleasure thee to dwell 
Deep in its perfume but an hour. 

I love my life, but not too well. 

I love my life, but not too well 
To sing it note by note away. 

So to thy soul the song may tell 
The beauty of the desolate day. 

I love my life, but not too well. 

I love my life, but not too well 
To cast it like a cloak on thine. 

Against the storms that sound and swell 
Between thy lonely heart and mine. 

I love my life, but not too well. 

Harriet Monroe 



59 



POSSESSION 

Walk Into the world, 

Go into the places of trade ; 

Go into the smiling country — 

But go, clad, wrapped closely always, 

Shielded and sustained. 

In the visible flame of my love. 

• Let it blaze about you — 

A glowing armor for all to see; 
Flashing around your head — 
A tender and valiant halo. 

I think there will be many to wonder 
And many to stand in awe and envy — 
But surely no one will come too close to you. 
No one will dare to claim you, — 
Hand or heart, — 

As you pass in your shining and terrible garment. 
Jean Starr Untermeyer 



60 



"YET FOR ONE ROUNDED MOMENT" 

Yet for one rounded moment I will be 
No more to you than what my lips may give, 
And in the circle of" your kisses live 
V As in some island of a storm-blown sea, 
Where the cold surges of infinity 
Upon the outward reefs unheeded grieve. 
And the loud murmur of our blood shall weave 
Primeval silences round you and me. 

If in that moment we are all we are, 

We live enough. Let this for all requite. 

Do 1 not know, some winged things from far 

Are borne along illimitable night 

To dance their lives out in a single flight 

Between the moonrise and the setting star ? 

Edith Wharton 



61 



INSUFFICIENCY 

I 

There is no one beside thee, and no one above thee ; 
Thou standest alone, as the nightingale sings ! 
And my words that would praise thee are im- 
potent things, 
For none can express thee, though all should ap- 
prove thee. 
I love thee so, dear, that I only can love thee. 

II 
Say, what can I do for thee ? Wear)^ thee, grieve 
thee? 
Lean on thy shoulder, new burdens to add ? 
Weep my tears over thee, making thee sad ? 
Oh, hold me not, love me not ! let me retrieve thee. 
I love thee so, dear, that I only can leave thee. 
Elizabeth Barrett Browning 



62 



"I MUST NOT YIELD" 

I MUST not yield . . . but if he would not sing ! 

My stilling hands upon my breast can feel 
Its answer tremble like a muted string. 

Below the vaulted window where I kneel 

He sings, he sings, to stars and listening skies. 

A white and haunted place my garden seems. — 
I see the pleading beauty of his eyes 

As faces glimmer in a pool of dreams. 

So wooing wind might sweep a harp awake. 

(Oh, muting fingers on each quivering string !) 
I must not yield ... I think my heart will break. 

Mother of Heaven, if he would not sing ! 

Nora May French 



63 



"GO FROM ME" 

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand 
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore 
Alone upon the threshold of my door 
Of individual life, I shall command 
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand 
Serenely in the sunshine as before, 
Without the sense of that which I forbore, — 
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land 
Doom takes to part us leaves thy heart in mine 
With pulses that beat double. What I do 
And what I dream include thee, as the wine 
Must taste of its own grapes. And, when I sue 
God for myself, he hears that name of thine, 
And sees within my eyes the tears of two. 

Elizabeth Barrett Broxvnhig 



64 



RENOUNCEMENT 

I MUST not think of thee ; and, tired yet strong, 
I shun the thought that lurks in all delight — 
The thought of thee — and in the blue Heaven's 
height. 

And in the sweetest passage of a song. 

Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng 
This breast, the thought of thee waits, hidden 

yet bright ; 
But it must never, never come in sight ; 

I must stop short of thee the whole day long. 

But when sleep comes to close each difficult day. 
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep. 
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart, 

Must dofF my will as raiment laid awav, — 

With the first dream that comes with the first sleep 
I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart. 

A/ice Meynell 

65 



A FAREWELL 

Good-bye ! — no, do not grieve that it is over, 

The perfect hour; 
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover. 

Flits from the flower. 

Grieve not — it is the law. Love will be flying - 

Yes, love and all. 
Glad was the living — blessed be the dying. 

Let the leaves fall. 

Harriet Monroe 



66 



LOVE'S CHANGE 

I WENT to dig a grave for Love, 
But the earth was so stiff and cold 

That, though I strove through the bitter night, 
I could not break the mould. 

And I said : " Must he lie in my house in state, 

And stay in his wonted place ? 
Must I have him with me another day, 

With that awful change in his face ? " 

Anne Reeve Aldrich 



67 



WHEN PLAINTIVELY AND NEAR THE 
CRICKET SINGS 

Now evening comes. Now stirs my discontent . . . 
Oh, ache of smallest, unforgotten things ! 

How sharp you are when day and dark are blent, 
When beetles hurry by with vibrant wings, 
And plaintively and near the cricket sings. 

The sighing garden calls me from the door; 
Above the hills a little crescent swings — 

Above the path where you will come no more 
When beetles hurry by on vibrant wings. 
And plaintively and near the cricket sings. 

Nora May French 



68 



"COME BACK TO ME" 

Come back to me, who wait and watch for you : — 
Or come not yet, for it is over then, 
And long it is before you come again, 

So far between my pleasures are and few. 

While, when you come not, what I do I do 

Thinking, " Now when he comes," my sweetest 

"when": 
For one man is my world of all the men 

This wide world holds; O love, my world is you. 

Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang 
Because the pang of parting comes so soon ; 
My hope hangs waning, waxing, like a moon 
Between the heavenly days on which we meet : 

Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang 

When life was sweet because you called them 
sweet ? 

Christina Rossetti 



69 



ASHES OF LIFE 

Love has gone and left me and the days are all 
alike; 
Eat I must, and sleep I will, — and would that 
night were here ! 
But ah ! — to lie awake and hear the slow hours 
strike ! 
Would that it were day again ! — with twilight 
near! 

Love has gone and left me and I don't know what 
to do; 
This or that or what you will is all the same to 
me; 
But all the things that I begin I leave before I 'm 
through, — 
There's little use in anything as far as I can 
see. 

Love has gone and left me, and the neighbors knock 
and borrow, 

70 



Ashes of Life 

And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a 
mouse, — 
And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow 
and to-morrow 
There's this little street and this little house. 
Edyia St. Vincent Millay 



THE CYNIC 

I SAY it to comfort me over and over, 
Having a querulous heart to beguile, 

Never had woman a tenderer lover — 
For a little while. 

Oh, there never were eyes more eager to read her 
In her saddest mood or her moments gay. 

Oh, there never were hands more strong to lead 
her — 
For a little way. 

There never were loftier promises given 

Of love that should guard her the ages through, 

As great, enduring and steadfast as Heaven — 
For a week or two. 

Well, end as it does, I have had it, known it. 
For this shall I turn me to weep or pray ? 

Nay, rather I laugh that I thought to own it 
For more than a day. 

Tlieodosia Ganhon 

72 



SEA SONG 

Against the planks of the cabin side 

(So slight a thing between them and me), 

The great waves thundered and throbbed and 
sighed, 
The great green waves of the Indian Sea ! 

Your face was white as the foam is white, 

Your hair was curled as the waves are curled, 

I would we had steamed and reached that night 
The sea's last edge, the end of the world. 

The wind blew in through the open port, 
So freshly joyous and salt and free. 

Your hair it lifted, your lips it sought. 
And then swept back to the open sea. 

The engines throbbed with their constant beat ; 

Your heart was nearer, and all I heard ; 
Your lips were salt, but I found them sweet, 

While, acquiescent, }ou spoke no word. 

73 



The Answering Voice 

So straight you lay in your narrow berth, 
Rocked by the waves ; and you seemed to be 

Essence of all that is sweet on earth, 
Of all that is sad and strange at sea. 

And you were white as the foam is white, 
Your hair was curled as the waves are curled. 

Ah ! had we but sailed and reached that night, 
The sea's last edge, the end of the world ! 

Laurence Hope 



RISPETTO 
I 

What good is there, ah me, what good in Love ? 

Since, even if you love me, we must part ; 
And since for either, an' you cared enough. 

There 's but division and a broken heart ? 

And yet, God knows, to hear you say : My Dear ! 
I would lie down and stretch me on the bier. 
And yet would I, to hear you say : My Own ! 
With mine own hands drag down the burial stone. 

A. Mary F. Robinson 



75 



RISPETTO 

II 

Let us forget we loved each other much, 
Let us forget we ever have to part, 

Let us forget that any look or touch 
Once let in either to the other's heart. 

Only we '11 sit upon the daisied grass 
And hear the larks and see the swallows pass ; 
Only we '11 live awhile, as children play, 
Without to-morrow, without yesterday. 

A. 3Jaiy F. Robinson 



76 



RISPETTO 
III 

Ah, Love, I cannot die, I cannot go 

Down in the dark and leave you all alone. 

Ah, hold me fast, safe in the warmth I know, 
And never shut me underneath a stone. 

Dead in the grave ! And I can never hear 
If you are ill, or if you miss me, dear. 
Dead, oh, my God ! and you may need me yet. 
While I shall sleep, while I — while I — forget ! 
A. Mary F. Robinson 



77 



"MANY IN AFTERTIMES WILL SAY" 

Many in aftertimes will say of you, 

" He loved her" — while of me what will they 
say? 

Not that I loved you more than just in play, 
For fashion's sake as idle women do. 
Even let them prate ; who know not what we knew 

Of love and parting in exceeding pain. 

Of parting hopeless here to meet again. 
Hopeless on earth, and heaven is out of view. 
But by my heart of love laid bare to you, 

My love that you can make not void nor vain. 
Love that foregoes you but to claim anew 
Beyond this passage of the gate of death, 

I charge you at the Judgment make it plain 
My love of you was life and not a breath. 

Christina Rossetti 



78 



"WHEN WE SHALL BE DUST" 

When we shall Jpe dust in the churchyard — 
In twenty years — in fifty years — 

Who will remember you kissed me once, 
Who will be grieved for our tears ? 

The locust tree will have grown taller, 
The old walks will be covered with grass, 

And past our quiet graves go straying 
A youth with his arm round his lass. 

And the bee that shall suck your grave flowers — 

Anemone, stock, columbine. 
May pause in his swift homing journey 

To taste of the honey from mine. 

3Iuna Lee 



79 



I AM THE WIND 

I AM the wind that wavers, 

You are the certain land ; 
I am the shadow that passes 

Over the sand. 

I am the leaf that quivers, 
You — the unshaken tree ; 

You are the stars that are steadfast, 
I am the sea. 

You are the light eternal. 

Like a torch I shall die. . . . 

You are the surge of deep music, 
I — but a cry ! 

Zoe Ak'i.is 



80 



SERVICE 

If I could only serve him, 

How sweet this life would be. 

Last night I dreamed my darling, 
Alive, returned to me. 

I brought him from the cupboard 
The things he liked to eat, — 

The little piece of honey, 

The rye bread and the meat. 

I sang the song he asked for 
The night he went away. 

How was it, when I loved him, 
I could have said him nay ! 

I took the time to please him, 
With a hand upon his brow. 

Amid the awful leisure 
There was no hurry now. 

81 



The Answering Voice 

How strange I once denied him 

What took so little while. 
A kiss would seem so simple, 

So slight a thing a smile. 

With pleased sweet looks of wonder 
He took what I could give, — 

Such words as we deny them 
Only because they live. 

The pale light of the morning 

Shone in upon the wall. 
Come back to me, my darling. 

And I will give you all. 

Anna Hempstead BraJich 



PARTING 

Dear Love, It was so hard to say 

Good-bye to-day ! 
You turned to go, yet going turned to stay! 
Till suddenly at last you went away. 

Then all at last I found my love unsaid. 

And bowed my head; 
And went in tears up to my lonely bed — 
Oh, would it be like this if you were dead ? 
Alice Freeman Palmer 



83 



FRIENDSHIP AFTER LOVE 

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze 
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires 
In the intensity of its own fires, 

There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days 

Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze ; 
So after Love has led us, till he tires 
Of his own throes, and torments, and desires 

Comes large-eyed friendship ; with a restful gaze, 

He beckons us to follow, and across 

Cool, verdant vales we wander free from care — 
Is it a touch of frost lies in the air ? 

Why are we haunted with a sense of loss ? 

We do not wish the pain back, or the heat; 

And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete, 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox 



84 



THE MESSAGE 

" Oh, have you not a message, you who come over 

the sea ? 
Have you not a message or word at all for me ? " 

" I have sailed, sailed, sailed where the seas are 

green and blue, 
I 've silver, gold and merchandise — but never a 

word for you." 

" But did you see my love by any way you came ? 
For if you saw my love, he must have spoke my 
name." 

" Oh, yes, I saw your love — oh, yes, and he was gay 
Riding in his coach-and-six all on his birthday." 

"But when you spoke of me, of me — oh! what 

was it he said ? " 
" Oh, he never said a word at all, but turned away 

his head." 

Margaret Sackville 

85 



THE OTHER 

I AM the Other — I who come 

To heal the wound she gave, 
The wound that struck your fond words dumb, 

And left your world a grave. 

What though you loved her — I love you, 

And so the most is said, 
Here is my yearning heart, still true 

To yours her frailty bled. 

(But oh ! the bitter grief that I 

Kept hushed, the wild despair. 
When your dear eyes had passed me by 

To find her face so fair.) 

Now she hath gone her cruel way. 

And I am come again, 
To seek among the husks to-day, 

For one sweet golden grain. 

86 



The Other 

Because in me Love's strength is great, 

Too great for pride, or sin, 
I knock upon your heart's barred gate. 

And pray you let me in. 

Ethna Carbery 



THE RAINBOW 

Whose doorway was it, in the sordid street, 
That gave us shelter from the sudden rain, — 

Two vagrant sparrows on a dripping branch, 
Waiting a moment to spread wing again ? 

The beggar children danced through pavement pools 
Barefoot and joyous, splashing at their will; 

The rain washed green that dusty sycamore 

And straws swirled wildly down the gutter's rill. 

Fast-breathing from the run, our hands still clasped. 
We leaned out laughing, shaking free our hair 

Of dewy drops, while still the clouds poured down 
A freshness that made heavenly the air. 

Then we both saw, above the sodden world, 
The Rainbow like a miracle appear. 

And you said, whispering, " Oh, kiss me once 
Before it fades ! " — " Kiss me then quickly, 
Dear!" 

88 



The Rainbow 

One warm sweet touch of lips — then forth we 
went 
Oblivious of all the rain and wet. 
To-day I saw a rainbow after rain. . . . 

My heart remembered then — does yours forget ? 

Vine Colby 



LOVE CAME BACK AT FALL 
O' DEW 

Love came back at fall o' dew, 
Playing his old part ; 
But I had a word or two 
That would break his heart. 

" He who comes at candle-light, 
That should come before, 
Must betake him to the night 
From a barred door." 

This the word that made us part 
In the fall o' dew ; 

This the word that brake his heart — 
Yet it brake mine, too. 

Lizette Woodworth Reese 



9o 



FROM A CAR-WINDOW 

Pines, and a blur of lithe young grasses ; 

Gold in a pool, from the western glow; 
Spread of wings where the last thrush passes — 

And thoughts of you as the sun dips low. 

Quiet lane, and an irised meadow . . . 

{How many summers have died since then P) . . . 
I wish you knew how the deepening shadow 
Lies on the blue and green again ! 

Dusk, and the curve of field and hollow 
Etched in gray when a star appears : 

Sunset, . . . twilight,. . . and dark to follow, . . . 
And thoughts of you through a mist of tears. 
I^uth Guthrie Harding- 



91 



THE SILLER CROWN 

" And ye sail walk in silk attire, 
And siller hae to spare, 
Gin ye '11 consent to be his bride, 
Nor think o' Donald mair." 

O, wha wad buy a silken gown 

Wi' a puir broken heart ? 
Or what 's to me a siller crown 

Gin frae my love I part ? 

The mind whose meanest wish is pure 

Far dearest is to me, 
And ere I 'm forced to break my faith, 

I '11 lay me down and dee. 

For I hae vowed a virgin's vow 

My lover's faith to share, 
An' he has gi'en to me his heart. 

An' what can man do mair ? 

92 



The Siller Crown 

His mind and manners won my heart, 

He gratefu' took the gift, 
An' did I wish to seek it back 

It wad be waur than theft. 

The langest life can ne'er repay 

The love he bears to me, 
And ere I 'm forced to break my faith, 

I '11 lay me down an' dee. 

Susanna Blamire 



"CUTTIN' RUSHES" 

Oh, maybe it was yesterday, or fifty years ago ! 
Meself was risin' early on a day for cuttin' 
rushes. 
Walkin' up the Brabla' burn, still the sun was low, 
Now I 'd hear the burn run an' then I 'd hear 
the thrushes. 
Youngs still young I — and drenchin' wet the grass. 
Wet the golden honey^suckle hangin' sweetly 
down; 
Here^ lad^ here ! will ye follow where I pass, 
An' find me cuttin' rushes on the mountain. 

Then was it only yesterday, or fifty years or so ? 
Rippbi^ round the bog pools high among the 
heather. 
The hook it made me hand sore, I had to leave 
it go, 
'T was he that cut the rushes then for me to 
bind together. 
Come^ dear^ come ! — an' back along the burn 

94 



"Cuttin' Rushes" 

See thedarlin' honeysuckle hangin' like a crown. 
Quick^ one Mss^ — sure, there 's some one at the 
turn ! 
" Oh, we 're afther cuttin' rushes on the moun- 
tain." 

Yesterday, yesterday, or fifty years ago. . . . 

I waken out o' dreams when I hear the sum- 
mer thrushes. 
Oh, that 's the Brabla' burn, I can hear it sing an' 
flow, 
For all that 's fair I 'd sooner see a bunch o' 
green rushes. 
Run^ buiTiy run ! can ye mind when we were 
young ? 
The honeysuckle hangs above, the pool is dark 
an' brown : 
Sin^y bum^ sing! can ye mind the song ye sung 
The day we cut the rushes on the mountain ? 

3Ioira aNe'ill 



TO A LATE COMER 

Why didst thou come into my life so late ? 
If it were morning I could welcome thee 
With glad all-hails, and bid each hour to be 
The willing servitor of thine estate, 
Lading thy brave ships with Time's richest freight; 
If it were noonday I might hope to see 
On some fair height thy banners floating free, 
And hear the acclaiming voices call thee great ! 
But it is nightfall and the stars are out ; 

Far in the west the crescent moon hangs low. 
And near at hand the lurking shadows wait ; 
Darkness and silence gather round about, 
Lethe's black stream is near its overflow, — 
Ah, friend, dear friend, why didst thou come 
so late ? 

Julia C. R. Dorr 



96 



CARNATIONS 

Carnations and my first love ! And he was seven- 
teen, 

And I was only twelve years — a stately gulf be- 
tween ! 

I broke them on the morning the school-dance was 
to be, 

To pin among my ribbons in hopes that he might 
see. . . . 

And all the girls stood breathless to watch as he 
came through 

With curly crest and grand air that swept the heart 
from you ! 

And why he paused at my side is more than I can 
know — 

Shyest of the small girls who all adored him 
so — 

I said it with my prayer-times: I walked with 
head held high : 

" Carnations are your fiowerl " he said as he 
strode by. 

97 



The Answering Voice 

Carnations and my Jirst love! The years are 

passed a score, 
And I recall his first name, and scarce an eyelash 

more. . . . 
And those were all the love-words that either of 

us said — 
Perhaps he may be married — perhaps he may be 

dead. 
And yet, ... to smell carnations, their spicy, 

heavy sweet. 
Perfuming all some sick-room, or passing on the 

street. 
Then . . . still the school-lamps flicker, and still 

the Lancers play, 
And still the girls hold breathless to watch him go 

his way. 
And still my child-heart quivers with that first 

ecstasy — 
" Carnations are your flower ! " my first love says 

to me! 

Margaret Widdemer 



A REMINISCENCE 

It is so long gone by, and yet 

How clearly now I see it all ! 
The glimmer of your cigarette, 

The little chamber, narrow and tall. 

Perseus; your picture in its frame; 

(How near they seem and yet how far !) 
The blaze of kindled logs ; the flame 

Of tulips in a mighty jar. 

Florence and spring-time : surely each 
Glad things unto the spirit saith. 

Why did you lead me in your speech 
To these dark mysteries of death ? 

Amy Levy 



99 



DIRGE 

Never the nightingale ; 

Oh, my dear, 
Never again the lark, 
Thou wilt hear. 
Though dusk and the morning still 
Tap at thy window-sill, 
Though ever love call and call. 
Thou wilt not hear at all. 
My dear, my dear. 
/ Adelaide Crapsey 



100 



"TO-DAY I WENT AMONG THE 
MOUNTAIN FOLK" 

To-day I went among the mountain folk 
To hear the gentle talk most dear to me. 
I saw slow tears, and tenderness that woke 
From sternest bed to light a lamp for thee. 
And " Is it true ? " hope asked and asked again, 
And " It is true," was all that I could say, 
And pride rose over love to hide gray pain 
As eyes tears might ungrace were turned away. 
So much they loved thee I was half decoyed 
By human warmth to feel thee near, but when 
I put my hand out all the earth was void. 
And vanished even these near- weeping men. 
Thus each new time I find that thou art gone. 
Anew do I survive the world, alone. 

Olive Tilford Dargan 



101 



AN APRIL GHOST 

All the ghosts I ever knew, 
White, and thinly calling, 

Come into the house with you. 
When the dew is falling. 

All of youth that ever died. 
In the Spring-time weather, 

In the windy April tide. 
Climb the dusk together. 

For a moment, lad and maid 
Stand up there all lonely ; 

In a moment fade and fade — 
You are left, you only. 

Lizette Woodworth Reese 



102 



( 



THE DEEP-SEA PEARL 

The love of my life came not 
As love unto others is cast; 

For mine was a secret wound — 
But the wound grew a pearl, at last. 

The divers may come and go, 
The tides, they arise and fall ; 

The pearl in its shell lies sealed. 
And the Deep Sea covers all. 

Edith M. Thomas 



103 



AULD ROBIN GRAY 

When the sheep are in the fauld, when the kye 's 

come hame, 
And a' the weary warld to rest are gane, 
The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my ee, 
Unkent by my gudeman, wha sleeps sound by 

me. 

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his 

bride, 
But saving ae crown-piece he had naething beside; 
To make the crown a pound my Jamie gaed to 

sea, 
And the crown and the pound — they were baith 

for me. 

He hadna been gane a twelvemonth and a day, 
When my father brake his arm and the cow was 

stown away; 
My mither she fell sick — my Jamie was at sea, 
And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me. 

104 



AuLD Robin Gray 

My father couldna vvark — my mither couldna 

spin — 
I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win; 
Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears in 

his ee. 
Said : " Jeanie, O for their sakes, will ye no marry 

me?" 

My heart it said na, and I looked for Jamie back, 
But hard blew the winds, and his ship was a wrack; 
His ship was a wrack — why didna Jamie dee ? 
Or why am I spared to cry wae is me ? 

My father urged me sair — my mither didna speak. 
But she looked in my face till my heart was like 

to break ; 
They gied him my hand — my heart was in the sea — 
And so Robin Gray he was gudeman to me. 

I hadna been his wife a week but only four. 
When, moumfu' as I sat on the stane at my door, 
I saw my Jamie's ghaist, for I couldna think it he. 
Till he said: "I'm come hame, love, to marry 
thee!" 

105 



The Answering Voice 

Oh, sair, sair did we greet, and mickle say of a\ 
I gied him ae kiss, and bade him gang awa' — 
I wish that I were dead, but I 'm na like to dee, 
For, though my heart is broken, I 'm but young, 
wae is me ! 

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin, 
I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin, 
But I '11 do my best a gude wife to be. 
For, oh ! Robin Gray, he is kind to me. 

Anne Barnard 



FINIS 

Even for you I shall not weep 
When I at last, at last am dead, 

Nor turn and sorrow in my sleep 
Though you should linger overhead. 

Even of you I shall not dream 

Beneath the waving graveyard grass; 

One with the soul of wind and stream 
I shall not heed you if you pass. 

Even for you I would not wake, 
Too bitter were the tears I knew. 

Too dark the road I needs must take 

The road that winds away from you. 
Rosamund JUarnott Watson 



107 



" GRANDMITHER, THINK NOT I 
FORGET " 

Grandmither, think not I forget, when I come 

back to town, 
An' wander the old ways again an' tread them up 

an' down. 
I never smell the clover bloom, nor see the swal- 
lows pass. 
Without I mind how good ye were unto a little lass, 
I never hear the winter rain a-pelting all night 

through. 
Without I think and mind me of how cold it falls 

on you. 
And if I come not often to your bed beneath the 

thyme. 
Mayhap 't is that I 'd change wi' ye, and gie my 

bed for thine, 

Would like to sleep in thine. 

I never hear the summer winds among the roses blow. 
Without I wonder why it was ye loved the lassie so. 

108 



"Grandmither, Think Not I Forget" 

Ye gave me cakes and lollipops and pretty toys a 

score, — 
I never thought I should come back and ask ye 

now for more. 
Grandmither, gie me your still, white hands, that 

lie upon your breast, 
For mine do beat the dark all night and never find 

me rest ; 
They grope among the shadows an' they beat the 

cold black air. 
They go seekin' in the darkness, an' they never find 

him there. 

An' they never find him there. 

Grandmither, gie me your sightless eyes, that I 

may never see 
His own a-burnin' full o' love that must not shine 

for me. 
Grandmither, gie me your peaceful lips, white as 

the kirkyard snow. 
For mine be red wi' burnin' thirst an' he must 

never know. 
Grandmither, gie me your clay-stopped ears, that 

I may never hear 

109 



The Answering Voice 

My lad a-singin' in the night when I am sick wi' fear ; 
A-singin' when the moonlight over a' the land is 

white — 
Oh God ! I '11 up an' go to him a-singin' in the 

night, 

A-callin' in the night. 

Grandmither, give me your clay-cold heart that 
has forgot to ache, 

For mine be fire within my breast and yet it can- 
not break. 

It beats an' throbs forever for the things that must 
not be, — 

An' can ye not let me creep in an' rest awhile by ye ? 

A little lass afeared o' dark slept by ye years 
agone — 

Ah, she has found what night can hold 'twixt sun- 
set an' the dawn ! 

So when I plant the rose an' rue above your grave 
for ye. 

Ye '11 know it's under rue an' rose that I would 
like to be. 

That I would like to be. 

Willa Sibert Gather 



THE PASSER-BY 

Step lightly across the floor, 
And somewhat more tender be. 

There were many that passed my door, 

Many that sought after me. 

I gave them the passing word — 

Ah, why did I give thee more ? 

I gave thee what could not be heard. 

What had not been given before; 

The beat of my heart I gave. . . . 

And I give thee this flower on my grave. 

My face in the flower thou mayst see. 
Step lightly across the floor. 

Edith M. Thomas 



111 



"WHEN I AM DEAD" 

When I am dead, my dearest, 

Sing no sad songs for me ; 
Plant thou no roses at my head, 

Nor shady cypress tree : 
Be the green grass above me 

With showers and dewdrops wet : 
And if thou wilt, remember, 

And if thou wilt, forget. 

I shall not see the shadows, 

I shall not feel the rain ; 
I shall not hear the nightingale 

Sing on as if in pain : 
And dreaming through the twilight 

That doth not rise nor set. 
Haply I may remember, 

And haply may forget. 

Christina Rossetti 



112 



REQUIESCAT 

Bury me deep when I am dead, 

Far from the woods ivhere sweet birds sing ; 

Lap me in sullen stone and lead, 

Lest my poor dust should feel the Spring. 

Never a flower be near me set, 
Nor starry cup nor slender stem, 
Anemone nor violet. 
Lest my poor dust remember them. 

And you — wherever you may fare — 
Dearer than birds, or flowers, or dew — 
Never, ah me, pass never there, 
Lest my poor dust should dream of you. 

Rosamund Marriott Watson 



113 



DOUGLAS, DOUGLAS, TENDER AND 
TRUE" 

Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas, 
In the old likeness that I knew, 
I would be so faithful, so loving, Douglas, 
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true. 

Never a scornful word should grieve je, 
I 'd smile on ye sweet as the angels do ; — 
Sweet as your smile on me shone ever, 
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true. 

Oh, to call back the days that are not ! 
My eyes were blinded, your words were few ; 
Do you know the truth now up in heaven, 
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true? 

I never was worthy of you, Douglas ; 

Not half worthy the like of you : 

Now all men beside seem to me like shadows — 

I love you, Douglas, tender and true. 

114 



Douglas, Douglas, Tender and True 

Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas, 
Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew; 
As I lay my heart on your dead heart, Douglas, 
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true. 

Dinah Mulock Craik 



UNWEDDED 

Along her tranquil way she went, 

The slow, sad course of changeless years, 

While in her burned her youth unspent, 
Dulled sometimes by her gentle tears. 

In richer lives she saw the strange. 

Sweet urgency of wedded days ; 
In dreams she watched her pale light change, 

Into the steadfast altar blaze. 

And, waking, sadly bowed above 
Her slender vestal flame and wept; 

Ah, better were the house of love. 
By blighting fire and tempest swept. 

Ada Foster Murray 



116 



UNFULFILLED 

I READ the pain and pathos of your eyes, 
The aftermath of anguish in your smile, 
And yet I can but envy you the while ! 

Your heart has bled, an ardent sacrifice 

To Love's fulfillment. You have paid the price 
Of keen, fierce living ; nor can aught defile 
The joys that once have been — they still beguile 

The tear-swept memory that Time defies. 

My soul's adventure, pallid, incomplete, 
Has lingered in the twilight, for my heart 
Has dwelt aloof in some dim atmosphere 
Betwixt the Earth and Heaven. My alien feet 
Have known nor Pain nor its great counterpart. 
I, who have never loved, may shed no tear. 
Corinne Roosevelt Robinson 



117 



A LYNMOUTH WIDOW 

He was straight and strongs and his eyes were blue 
As the summer meeting of sky and sea, 
And the ruddy cliffs had a colder hue 
Than flushed his cheek when he married me. 

We passed the porch where the swallows breed, 
We left the little brown church behind, 
And I leaned on his arm, though I had no need. 
Only to feel him so strong and kind. 

One thing I never can quite forget; 

It grips my throat when I try to pray — 

The keen salt smell of a drying net 

That hung on the churchyard wall that day. 

He would have taken a long, long grave — 
A long, long grave, for he stood so tall . . . 
Oh, God ! the crash of a breaking wave. 
And the smell of the nets on the churchyard wall ! 
Amelia Josephine Burr 

118 



"LESS THAN THE DUST" 

Less than the dust, beneath thy Chariot wheel, 
Less than the rust, that never stained thy Sword, 
Less than the trust thou hast in me, O Lord, 

Even less than these! 

Less than the weed, that grows beside thy door. 
Less than the speed of hours spent far from thee. 
Less than the need thou hast in life of me. 

Even less am I. 

Since I, O Lord, am nothing unto thee, 
See here thy Sword, I make it keen and bright. 
Love's last reward. Death, comes to me to-night. 

Farewell, Zahir-u-din. 
Laurence Hope 



119 



NORAH 

I KNEW his house by the poplar trees — 
Green and silvery in the breeze; 

"A heaven-high hedge," were the words he said, 
"And holly-hocks — pink and white and red. . . ." 

It seemed so far from McChesney's Hall 
Where first he told me about it all. . . . 

A long path runs inside from the gate, 
He still can take it early or late ; 

But where in the world is a path for me — 
Except the river that runs to the sea ! 

Zo'e Akins 



120 



THE MAN 

The flame is spent, I can no more 
Hold the tall candle by your door ; 
Too often have I watched to see 
Your lagging steps come home to me. 

The Tyrian traders taught me this : 
They came perfumed with ambergris, 
With amethystine robes, and hair 
Curled by the kisses of salt air. 

They mocked me for my weary hands 
Holding your light as love demands ; 
They sang the lure of poppied sleep, 
Their lips were warm, their eyes were deep. 

The flame is spent — your pale, weak face 
Must seek another resting place; 
Win me and hold me now who can — 
The Tyrian trader was a man. 

Helen Hay Whitney 

121 



"UNDER DUSKY LAUREL LEAF" 

Under dusky laurel leaf, 

Scarlet leaf of rose, 
I lie prone, who have known 

All a woman knows — 

Love and grief and motherhood, 
Fame and mirth and scorn ; 

These are all shall befall 
Any woman born. 

Jewel- laden are my hands, 

Tall my stone above; 
Do not weep that I sleep 

Who was wise in love; 

Where I walk a shadow gray 
Through gray asphodel, 

I am glad, who have had 
All that Life could tell. 

Margaret Widdemer 

122 



INDEXES 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES 

Across the shimmering meadows 34 

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze .... 84 

Against the planks of the cabin side .... 73 
Ah, Love, I cannot die, I cannot go . . . .77 

AH the ghosts I ever knew 102 

Along her tranquil way she went 116 

And if I came not again 54 

And ye sail walk in silk attire 92 

As a little child I come 40 

As the mother bird to the waiting nest ... 24 

At Loschwitz above the city 2 

Be not angry with me that I bear . ... 27 

Before I trust my fate to thee 47 

BelovM, my beloved, when I think .... 26 

Bury me deep when I am dead 113 

Carnations and my first love ! and he was seventeen. 97 

Come back to me, who wait and watch for you . 69 
Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas . .114 

Cover mine eyes, O my Love! 35 

Dear Love, it was so hard to say 83 

Even for you I shall not weep 107 

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand ... 64 

Good-bye! — no, do not grieve that it is over . . 66 
Grandmither, think not I forget, when I come back 

to town 108 

125 . 



Index of First Lines 

He was straight and strong, and his eyes were blue . 118 
He whistled soft whistlings I knew were for me . 14 
Hill people turn to their hills . . . . . .23 

How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways . . 43 

I am the Other — I who come 86 

I am the wind that wavers 80 

I came into your room and spoke 58 

I cannot always feel his greatness 37 

I have always hated the rain 29 

I have seen the proudest stars 3 

I have wandered to a spring in the forest green and 

dim 5 

I knew his house by the poplar trees .... 120 

I leaned out my window, I smelt the white clover . 31 

I love my life, but not too well 59 

I love thee, dear, and knowing mine own heart . 51 

I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong . 65 

I must not yield . . . but if he would not sing! . 63 
I read the pain and pathos of your eyes . . .117 
I sat among the green leaves, and heard the nuts 

falling 13 

I say it to comfort me over and over .... 72 

I've learned to say it carelessly ..... 30 

I went out to the farthest meadow .... 8 

I went to dig a grave for Love 67 

I will arise and go hence to the west .... 10 

I will not give thee all my heart 56 

If I could only serve him 81 

If thou must love me, let it be for nought . . .41 

It is so long gone by, and yet 99 

Less than the dust, beneath thy Chariot wheel . 119 
Let us forget we loved each other much ... 76 
Love came back at fall o' dew 90 

126 



Index of First Lines 

Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike. 70 

Love me at last, or if you will not . . . . . 6 

Many in aftertimes will say of you .... 78 

My Dear was a mason 36 

My debt to you, Beloved 46 

My heart is like a singing bird 17 

My life closed twice before its close .... 53 

Never the nightingale 100 

Now evening comes. Now stirs my discontent . 68 

O my Lover, blind me 42 

O strong sun of heaven, harm not my love . . 21 

Of all the souls that stand create 19 

Oh, have you not a message, you who come over the 

sea ? 85 

Oh! I know why the alder trees 39 

Oh, maybe it was yesterday, or fifty years ago! . 94 

Oh, the burden, the burden of love ungiven . . 12 

Oh, when I saw your eyes 18 

Out of the window the trees in the Square . . 7 

Pines, and a blur of lithe young grasses ... 91 

Rain, rain, — fall, fall 33 

So beautiful you are, indeed 20 

Somewhere or other there must surely be ... 1 

Step lightly across the floor Ill 

Such special sweetness was about 52 

The flame is spent, I can no more . . . .121 

The hills far-off were blue, blue 15 

The love of my life came not 108 

127 



Index of First Lines 

There is a strong wall about me to protect me . 22 

There is no one beside thee, and no one above thee 62 
There was a garden planned in Spring's young days 11 
To-day I went among the mountain folk . . . 101 

Under dusky laurel leaf 122 

Walk into the world 60 

What good is there, ah me, what good in Love ? . 75 

When I am dead, my dearest 112 

When I go away from you 44 

When on the marge of evening the last blue light is 

broken 25 

When the sheep are in the fauld, when the kye's 

come hame 104 

When we shall be dust in the churchyard . . 79 

Whose doorway was it, in the sordid street . . 88 
Why didst thou come into my life so late ? . . .96 

Yet for one rounded moment I will be ... 61 

You ask me what — since we must part ... 57 
You need not say one word to me, as up the hill we 

go 49 

You say there is no love, my love .... 45 



INDEX OF AUTHORS 

Akins, Zoe 33, 80, 120 

Aldbich, Anne Reeve 67 

Barkeb, Elsa 39 

Barnard, Anne 104 

Blamire, Susanna 92 

Branch, Anna Hempstead 81 

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett . 26, 41, 43, 62, 64 
Burr, Amelia Josephine 51,118 

Carbery, Ethna 86 

Gather, Willa Sibebt 34, 108 

Chesson, Noba 10 

Coates, Flobence Earle 24 

Colby, Vine 88 

CoNKLiNG, Grace Hazard 56 

Gorbin, Alice 6 

Gbaik, Dinah Mulock 114 

Grapsey, Adelaide 100 

Dargan, Olive Tilford 101 

Davies, Mary Garolyn 22 

Davis, Fannie Stearns 49, 54 

Dickinson, Emily 19, 53 

Dorr, Julia G. R 96 

Dudley, Helen 3 

Ewing, Juliana Horatia 57 

French, Nora May G3, 68 

129 



Index of Authors 

Garrison, Theodosia 72 

GuiNEY, Louise Imogen 25 

Harding, Ruth Guthrie 91 

Hope, Laurence 73, 119 

HoYT, Helen 14 

Ingelow, Jean 31 

Lee, Muna 79 

Levy, Amy 2, 99 

Lowell, Amy 27, 44 

McCouRT, Edna Wahlert 5 

McLeod, Irene Rutherford . . . . 20, 40 

Meynell, Alice 65 

MiLLAY, Edna St. Vincent 70 

Monroe, Harriet 59, 66 

Murray, Ada Foster 116 

Naidu, Sarojini 85 

Norton, Grace Fallow 8, 12, 45 

O'Neill, Moira 94 

Palmer, Alice Freeman 83 

Parrish, Williamina 30 

Peabody, Josephine Preston . . . . 15, 18 

PiCKTHALL, MaRJORIE L. C 13 

Procter, Adelaide Anne 47 

Reese, Lizette Woodworth . . .52, 90, 102 

RiTTENHOUSE, JeSSIE B 46 

Robinson, A. Mary F 7, 75, 76, 77 

Robinson, Corinne Roosevelt 117 

RossETTi, Christina .... 1, 17, 69, 78, 112 

130 



Index of Authors 

Sackville, Margaret 85 

Thomas, Edith M 11, 103, 111 

TiETjENS, Eunice 37 

Tynan, Katharine 58 

Untermeyer, Jean Starr 29, 60 

Watson, Rosamund Marriott . . . .107,113 

Wharton, Edith 61 

Whitney, Helen Hay 121 

WicKHAM, Anna 36, 42 

WiDDEMER, Margaret 97, 122 

Wilcox, Ella Wheeler 84 

Wilkinson, Florence 23 

Wilkinson, Marguerite 21 



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